


though in your heart you'd like to stay

by JuniperGrace



Category: Mary Poppins (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Goodbyes, mary poppins has emotions, practically perfect people never permit sentiment to muddle their thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuniperGrace/pseuds/JuniperGrace
Summary: goodbyes are never easy, even for someone such as mary poppins.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	though in your heart you'd like to stay

_ “And what would happen to me, may I ask, if I loved all the children I said goodbye to?” _

* * *

It’s a question, not for Jane or Michael Banks, but for Mary Poppins herself; though it’s posed outloud as the Banks children help her pack, teary-eyed. They’ve nothing to say in response and before they can try again to ask her to stay, George Banks returns home, joyously shouting for his family to join him. 

“Your father’s calling.” 

“It doesn’t  _ sound _ like father,” Michael says, looking puzzled at their father’s gleeful tone. 

“Run along, spit spot.”

They move to the door, pausing to look back. Michael speaks up again, “You won’t go, Mary Poppins, will you?” 

She wishes they wouldn’t turn back – wishes they wouldn’t look at her with those sorrowful eyes and beg her to stay. If she wasn’t Mary Poppins – if she were anyone else – she’d promise to stay. But she’s already told them it would be a pie-crust promise if she promised to stay. Mary Poppins simply does not make promises of the pie-crust sort. “Spit spot,” she says again, her voice but a sad, almost sentimental, whisper.

Every time she meets a new family, she tells herself that she won’t become attached. That this time, saying goodbye won’t be so difficult. Every time proves her wrong as she leaves a bit of herself behind. Percival will certainly have something to say on the matter once they’re alone –– he always has something to say, insufferable know-it-all that he is. She finishes packing on her own, moving quietly until she hears that the family’s left. Percival is shockingly silent the entire time and Mary Poppins almost thinks he’s nothing to say at all. 

A foolish thought, really, for as soon as she’s stood on the step of the house that’s recently become a home again, he blinks to life, “Well, that’s gratitude for you. Didn’t even say goodbye!”

She smiles, “No, they didn’t.” She knew they wouldn’t. How often do her charges say goodbye to her? She can count on one hand how many have gotten the chance. It’s always this way. She enters their lives in a spectacular show, helps them along in a time of need, and then quietly vanishes when they’re strong enough to get on without her.

“Look at them,” Percival continues, “You know, they think more of their father than they do of you.” He sounds wholly indignant at the thought and it’s all Mary Poppins can do to keep her eyes from rolling in exasperation.

“That’s as it should be.” 

“Well don’t you care?” The question is sharp, accusing. He knows what he’s asking and he knows what he’s trying to incite in her. Well, she won’t fall for it – she hasn’t before and she isn’t about to begin today.

“Practically perfect people never permit sentiment to muddle their thinking.” 

“Is that so? Well I’ll tell you one thing, Mary Poppins, you don’t fool me one bit!”

She huffs now, growing frustrated with the sculpted bird. If he’s going to say something, he ought to come right out and say it instead of trying to take her in circles. “ _ Oh, really? _ ”

“Yes, really,” he spits back, “I know exactly how you feel about these children. And if you think I’m going to keep my mouth shut any longer, I –––”

“That will be  _ quite enough _ of that, thank you,” she says, gently closing her fingers around Percival’s beak, effectively silencing him before he can get another word in. She knows exactly what he’s going to say, she doesn’t want to hear it right now, and she can only entertain his lecturing for so long anyways.  _ What would he know, really? Silly wooden bird.  _

She’s not given a moment to dwell, however, as the wind picks up. Blossoms flurry and Mary Poppins feels it tug at something very deep within her – she’s needed elsewhere.  _ It’s time, then _ , she tells herself and in one quick motion, she steps off the porch and opens her umbrella, holding tight to Percival as she’s lifted effortlessly into the sky. She won’t look back this time, she tells herself. ( A lie she often tells herself. ) 

Bert’s voice drifts through the air, “Goodbye, Mary Poppins. Don’t stay away too long.” And she can’t help herself from turning back, an all too knowing smile turning the corners of her lips gently upwards. She doesn’t speak, but she knows (or perhaps, she hopes) she’ll return. There’s plenty of children in London who could do with a touch of Mary Poppins’ help.

With that, all traces of Mary Poppins are gone from the nursery of Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane. All traces, that is, except for the snowglobe of Saint Paul’s Cathedral and the faintest happy dreams of magic and jolly holidays. 


End file.
